Break of Day
by Inferna Firesword
Summary: Halloween special, '10-'11: Given only one night to complete a seemingly-impossible task, a Matoran must confront the creations of the mysterious Toa Seneca to destroy an ancient evil ... but what's the real danger? Rating may go up; AU
1. The Invitation

The Invitation

It was a night when the Twin Moons had turned orange in the star-studded sky. It was made even more unique by the fact it was Hero's Eve, the night when those long dead were honored by stories and festivals all over the universe. This area was no different: while the celebrations of the Matoran here were more subdued than those hosted by Metru Nui, a rather large fair was held in the town center, which got plenty of attendance, so no one minded how casual they were in comparison to other areas.

The fact remained: It was Hero's Eve, and for a certain public transport driver, he just wanted get this run out to the bordering plains over with, so he could be back in town when the festivities began.

It started at 7 at night; he checked his dashboard clock, the same way he had been for several times a minutes since he had picked up his only passenger that night (funnily enough, no one else felt like leaving the area tonight). It was 6:33; if his passenger reached his destination within five minutes – wherever that was, since the only instructions had been "Travel west" – he could make it back in time for the celebration to start.

Through the rearview mirror, the Le-Matoran peered at his passenger. It was hard to tell what tribe the other Matoran was (the dark cloak wrapped around himself tended to obscure color perception), but he was pretty sure it was a Ta-Matoran that was paying the fare.

A flash of light appeared, emanating from the eyes of the other, as sharp as if he had sensed the stare, and the Le-Matoran hastily returned his attention to the road that seemed to stretch on to infinity.

He looked again at the clock. _6:34. _At 6:35, his palms began to sweat as he frantically tried to figure out if he could make it if the other Matoran got out within three minutes. 6:36 –

"There," the passenger suddenly said, gesturing up ahead and breaking into the driver's thoughts.

To the right of the road was a blocky adobe building, facing the deep plains that made up the western outskirts of the township and the ghostlike mountains in the distance. There were said to be a lot of strange things in the foothills, not the least about the small group of strangers that had moved into the area about six months ago. Hardly anyone saw them – they were beings that kept to themselves – but the only ones that saw them were those summoned by grave invitation to their home, and they were highly reluctant to give details about what they were like … though that never stopped them from returning when another invitation arrived.

Carefully, the driver pulled to a stop before the nondescript building. The passenger opened his door, forked over the fare, and stepped outside into the chilly night.

Frowning, the Le-Matoran watched the other male walk around the building, out of his sight. He'd been this way several times, and he'd never seen this place before. Was the quiet Matoran up to something suspicious?

_Not my problem, _he decided. Right now, he had bigger things to worry about – like making it back into town in time for the festival. Throwing the vehicle into gear once again, he pulled a wide U-turn and drove back towards civilization without a glance into the rearview mirror. Had he looked, however, he would have noticed the building collapse into dust a minute or so after he had left.

**XxX**

Luja was glad he had brought his cloak tonight. As the tenth month of the year had dragged on, the remaining warmth brought on by summer had been chased away by the bite of looming winter, most noticeable on the plains nights. The Ta-Matoran actually preferred winter over summer, despite his Fire heritage. He had a trade in metals – mostly jewelry, but he repaired a tool or mask once in a while – and in winter, his forge kept him comfortable. The heart of summer, on the other hand, was sweltering enough to fry Gukko eggs on a flat rock outside, and when he was stuck inside the forge from nine to five, even he could become uncomfortable.

He shook the thoughts away as he rounded the corner, vanishing from the view of the Le-Matoran driver. Just like his instructions had detailed, a taller figure – easily Toa-sized – was slouching against the wall, their body language conveying boredom. However, their attention, previously held by the mountains, abruptly shifted to him when they noticed Luja in the corner of their eye.

"You have it?" they asked, and while the voice was very intimidating, Luja was unaffected (he got a few rough types in his work). He could also tell that this Toa-type was female, in spite of the tone, and in reply, he produced what she was talking about from a pouch on his belt. "Here."

The female threw something onto the flat earth, leaving it to smolder as she moved forward to see the document better. Luja felt some slight stirrings of discomfort – she was easily five feet taller than he was. Her face was hidden beneath a cowl (he hadn't been the only person wearing a hooded cloak tonight), but a pale red glow emanated from where her eyes were.

"That works," she said, straightening up. "Come on, but keep that message. You'll need it to persuade the guards to let you in." Turning ninety degrees to her right, not waiting for his reply, she opened a door he hadn't noticed earlier and walked inside the adobe building. Pocketing the tablet again, the Ta-Matoran followed her in.

It was dark inside; aside from the dim light streaming through the door, there was no illumination. It was enough to reveal another transport, blockier than the streamlined version he had exited a few seconds earlier, but much more elegant, in a Gothic sort of way.

The Toa female rose her left hand; a white shine erupted from it, and then the door swung open. Realizing this as his cue to board, Luja scrambled inside and shut the door, even as the carriage rocked when the female leapt to the front. Through a window placed on the door, he watched as she sent a trio of energy beams – one black, one tan, and the last silver – from her raised hand. The silver one wrapped around the carriage, sealing completely, the tan one made the adobe walls whisper back into dust, and the black twisted into complex shapes, finally turning bone-white and forming into a skeletal, four-legged beast of burden, pawing the ground eagerly.

The female lashed leather reins around the creature, pulling a plumed bridle over the skull. Standing up on the driver's seat like a rider from Karzahni, with the reins in one hand she produced a long whip in the other and lashed out, a loud _crack!_ resounding from above the Rahi's head.

With a guttural shriek, the undead beast gathered itself and then sprang, gathering speed until Luja was pressed flat against the carriage seat, the wheels sounding like they were moving at Kakama-speed. His hand clutched at the pocket with the tablet; trying not to reel from the forces against him, he pulled out the letter and reread it, words gracefully written in rich maroon ink.

"_Luja,_

_I doubt you have met us, though we have known of you for some time. We have lived on the fringes since we arrived in this area half a year ago, and there are few from your home that we call friends._

_Amongst these are a few of your own friends, who have told us about you. The words they used intrigued us, and due to circumstances both beyond and within our control, we desire the chance to meet you, mask to mask._

_On Hero's Eve, take a transport west, until you reach an adobe building. Around the side will be a female, roughly the size of a Toa. Show her this invitation, and she will bring you to our abode._

_We await your reply. Meet us on Hero's Eve, or not at all."_

There had been no signature, but one of his friends – a Po-Matoran named Kauz – had identified the handwriting as that of the same person that wrote his own, similar invitations. The author was thought to be part of a group of recluses that lived out in the foothills, dwelling in what looked like a giant fortress carved from stone, seeking something that they never spoke of to the visitors they gravely summoned.

Kauz was one of those that had been invited, alongside a few of his friends and co-workers. Oddly enough, the weekend after the invitation had appeared in his home, Kauz and his friends had vanished, but no one had seen them after they had left that night. Feeling that there was a connection between his friends disappearing and his own initial reluctance to accept, the Ta-Matoran had set out on Hero's Eve to the plains, not sure what to expect.

This was not what he had been thinking.

"Whoa!" the driver's voice suddenly cried, and Luja was forced to brace himself as the carriage jolted to a halt. Clicks emanated from the outside, and the door smoothly swung open. More than a little surprised about how fast they had traveled, the Ta-Matoran all but crawled out of the coach, stubbornly clutching the letter in his hands.

His astonishment was increased as he realized they were at the foothills he had just been thinking of, the stars twinkling above his head like spirit lanterns. The female rider jumped off the seat, not even appearing windswept by the speedy trip, though her hood had been blown off by their journey. Now uncloaked, her face was mercifully hidden behind a black Kakama, eyes the color of rubies blazing through her eyeholes. Turning away from him, her gauntleted hand wove through the air, silver energy swirling around it, and Luja watched as horse and buggy collapsed into dust.

"Was that necessary?" he asked.

"My mistress and her brothers have a unique way of seeing the world," came the reply, as his guide walked forward to the pile of sand and began sifting through it. "When they need something temporary – like this method of transport – they create it, but when they no longer require its services, they consign it in-animation, until the day comes that they need it again."

As the words left her lips, the female seemed to find what she needed, fingers emerging with what appeared to be a fist-sized, circular tablet. Before the smith could tell for sure, it vanished under the folds of fabric and they were walking towards the mountains.

Over three hills, they stopped, and Luja could not help but stare as he beheld what appeared to be a fortress of alabaster, colored tan by the winds flinging dust against it. Two towers made up its corners, patrolled with what appeared to be more Toa, though it was hard to tell in the falling night; the parapets were the same, except he could see the wicked spears in their hands. Braziers were alight upon the façade, the orange fires casting smoke and giving the entire place a forbidding fascia.

Curled up in the very center, blocking any view of the gates, was a giant lizard-like creature, its scales the color of the abyss and its eyes like giant emeralds. As the Ta-Matoran and his guide advanced on it (he a bit fearfully), a serpentine neck supporting a frilled head lifted off the ground to better watch their approach.

Boldly, the matte-black female strode forward, snatching the invitation from Luja's nerveless hands as he stopped dead in his tracks. Halting only a bio from it, she raised it up, the better for the creature to read it.

A low _hisssss_ filled the air as the Rahi looked closer at Luja, whom the female beckoned forward; he obeyed numbly. "I was expecting someone … taller," it remarked in a voice that surprised him almost as much as it speaking: a very feminine, dark voice. Extending her head forward, she brushed her snout on Luja's brow before enormous bat wings unfurled, allowing the dragon to take flight, circling higher and higher into the sky before vanishing into the mountains.

"Taller?" he demanded to know once she disappeared, not sure if he ought to be more offended by the comment on his height.

"Ignore her. Most of the heroes Orinda has seen are my size," the Toa-female replied, moving towards the metal-mahogany doors that were now unguarded.

"Wait, wait, wait. I'm just a blacksmith; I'm no –"

"My mistress and her brothers know heroes when they see them. They know what makes a hero, and you fulfill all their expectations … at least, so she told me when I was sent to retrieve you." Lifting a hand to cut off any argument, she added, "I know you do not see it within yourself; few truly do. But they do. It was not on accident or coincidence that you were called to see them on Hero's Eve."

Taking advantage of the brief silence, she turned back towards the doors, knocking three times on the wood before crying out in another language, a tongue that he had no knowledge of. It seemed to have some effect on someone inside, as with a chorus of screeches, coming from hinges that lacked oil, the doors creaked open.

The newly-opened portal revealed an opulent entrance hall, robed in thick rugs and flanked on the opposite end by marble staircases climbing to the next floor. A row of three suits of armor, one on each side, stood at attention as if saluting invisible commanders, plumed masks hollow without a wearer. More torches burned on the walls and in a magnificent crystal chandelier, casting dancing shadows and rainbow sparks upon the walls and floor.

"Much of this was restored when the masters came here," the Toa-female said softly, sensing the inevitable question. "This used to be a fortress for a long-gone king, and many of the trappings here were what remained of the décor when they rebuilt the ruins of what this was. They prefer to have their comfort assured – for themselves, their servants, and their guests – so they may devote their time to more important pursuits. Come; they are waiting."

The Ta-Matoran, feeling numb in the presence of such wealth and luxury, followed her up the stairs. Kauz had told him that the place was beyond imagining, but his wildest imagining could not prepare him for this. He was forced to amend his perception of the plains recluses, because if they were as wealthy as these surroundings hinted they were, they could easily be kings and generals in lives other than this one.

They came to a halt before a door, the cedar wood carved with strange images and marked with an odd copper seal: seven swords in a circle, the points around a Kanohi Hau. The brass doorknob was also shaped like a blade, and when touched, the door smoothly opened to admit them into a parlor as richly bejeweled as the entrance hall.

"Make yourself comfortable," the guide invited as Luja walked in, admiring the room. "I will fetch the mistress and her brothers." With that, she left, the door swinging shut behind her.

Left to his own devices, Luja realized that the beauty surrounding him meant he could not willingly sit; he had to ignore the chairs of ebony and examine the carvings on the wall, read the spines of tablets that detailed stories he had never read before. Each glyph was filled in by a different metal foil – this one gold, another red, and yet another silver – and while the Matoran letters were familiar to him, the titles he was reading were not of stories he had ever read before. Naturally, curiosity got the better of him.

He was deeply engrossed in a tale by an unknown author (all he knew was they had pressed ruby foil into the title) when the silence of the parlor suddenly began feeling oppressive instead of welcoming. The lightstones that were set into wall sconces were dimming somehow, despite that they only could lose light when they were destroyed, and as he looked up and around, concerned by this anomaly, they turned a smoky grey.

What felt like a scaly, clawed hand touched his shoulder plate; it felt slimy enough that he whirled around in fear, the tablet slipping from his hands and cracking into three pieces. He had enough time to worry about what the recluses would think about him breaking one of their tablets when a oily black mist whizzed past his eyes, and he turned again to face what appeared to be a twisted hybrid of a snake, a rock lizard, and a spider of some kind, mainly because it had eight spindly legs, a flat head with giant poison-filled fangs and beady eyes, and a tail long and heavy enough to snap stone.

With a startled yelp, Luja stumbled back, even as the greasy-black monster hissed and slithered forward. The smith cursed himself in his head – thinking that he wouldn't have a battle-to-the-death in a supposedly safe place he hadn't even brought his work hammer, which always suited him as a weapon when needed – but fortunately for the Ta-Matoran, help arrived at that very moment.

Blazing fire, like that from the largest of forges, whipped from his left side and wrapped around the creature, which screamed in pain – which was rather natural, even for a monster. Luja looked towards the source, but the heat waves obscured the true shape of the caster, who was standing within the doorframe.

With a wail, the creature vanished like it had never been there, a strange splotch on the carpet the only marker of its brief presence. The fire vanished with it, and with the heat gone, Luja could watch his savior fully enter the room and examine the space. Unlike his guide, she was lacking a cloak, so he could see that her deep emerald-colored armor was almost completely obscured by images of flame, colored in brightest scarlet and deepest gold. Her Kanohi – a Great Calix, the smith in him noticed – was similarly illustrated, wrapping around blue eyes like they were emanating from those orbs. Hanging from her waist was the largest sword he had seen in the hands of any Toa, an enormous ruby set into its pommel.

"Dark Karzahni. This will take years to get out of the carpet …" she muttered, eyes fixed briefly on the black stain before they snapped up to meet his face. "But I should offer my apologies, Luja – I had not expected such a lethal welcome to the Keep to be extended to you, an honored guest." Pressing her hands against each other, obscuring her heartlight, she bowed from the waist to him.

Luja was starting to lose his store of surprise emotion, so he was not affected by this strange Toa bowing to him. All his lips could speak was, "What was that thing?"

Straightening up, she replied simply, "The reason my brothers and I summoned you here, to this place we call home. But this is moving far too fast for my liking. We will sit and talk then." Smiling to him, she walked to a table surrounded by chairs and waved him into one of the more comfortable-looking ones.

Torpidly, the Ta-Matoran did as she suggested. "Who are you?"

She laughed – a very strange sound, coming from the mouth of a fierce-looking warrior. "Ah, my brothers and I have many names. Which one are you asking for?" Still smiling like she hadn't a care in the world, she seated herself a few chairs to his left. "However, you may call me Inferna."

**XxX**

**Author's Note: **This is the story that originally started as my 2010 Halloween special, which is a collaboration between myself and a few other friends, two being Kini Hawkeye and Repicheep22 from here. Two chapters were originally posted on BZPower before I suffered from writer's block and it went on hiatus; hopefully having it on other websites will motivate me to break my fatigue.

**Disclaimer: **Bionicle does not belong to me or to any of my coconspirators, but any OCs that you may see will belong to us. I'll disclaim each of those as we go along.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	2. Phantasm

Phantasm

Contrary to what Luja was expecting, Inferna didn't immediately begin talking about the whole reason of his visit. Instead, she glanced distastefully at the dulled lightstones – which stubbornly remained the color of a smoky glass – and then conjured up an orb of flame in her palm. It split into seven copies, seven clones of the original, and then they flew towards the sconces, wrapping around the dull stones and turning them into more torches. The room was once again brightly lit, but the light flickered like dancing wraiths, putting the Ta-Matoran in the uneasy frame of mind that the fortress might be haunted.

"There," the Toa said, much more relaxed now that the room was brightly lit. "The atmosphere is set."

"What's the big deal about the ambiance?"

She smiled again, a hint of mystique in her expression. "When you are a being like my brothers and I, you'll know that the mood is a key part of what we do."

As if to make a point he didn't understand, she withdrew something and set it gently on the table. Luja felt his facial temperature climb in embarrassment: it was the pieces of tablet he had broken. If his host noticed the guilt upon his face, she didn't make mention of it; her eyes remained focused on the pieces as she lovingly fit the jagged edges back together, soon leaving only cracks to indicate it had been damaged.

He was about to apologize for the accident when more energy – not fire, even though it had the same ruby sheen – poured from her hand, making the fractures blaze. When the glare faded, it revealed the tablet, as good as new.

"How –?" he began, impressed; this was nothing like what a Toa he'd met once could do.

"I have power over what I create, Luja," she replied softly, pushing the slab away and looking at him again. "That goes for the physical, as well as the meta-physical."

"You wrote that story." It was a statement, not a question, and the host answered it as such. "The art on the walls, the tablets that line the shelves, the chair you sit on – my brothers and I created it all, save for the foundations of this place."

Her face darkened, and her tone became far more serious. "And it is because of those foundations that we sought you out, Luja."

Before he could ask, before his questions could be answered at last, the door to the parlor opened to admit the female who had brought him her. A tray was in her hands as she made her way towards the table, eyes un-obscured by her cloak hood – she had clearly disposed of it somewhere.

"I tried to rouse the others, Inferna," she reported, setting down the tray and placing crystal glasses before them; six others rested there, like they were expecting others. A glass decanter, filled with a gold liquid, was then unstoppered and the contents poured generously into both flutes as she added, "However, the others informed me that they have retired for the night, and they had given strict instructions to not be disturbed."

Inferna muttered a few words under her breath that Luja was sure were not compliments to her housemates. "I would've thought they would want to be here … oh well; it's their loss. Very well, Nemesis; you may rest."

The female – Nemesis – bowed from the waist and left the room, closing the door behind her, but it was not fast enough to deter a small, four-legged creature that darted through the shutting gap and into the room. Luja twisted around to get a better glimpse at the creature, and found himself peering at a gold-armored Muaka cub, who paid zero attention to him as it weaved between the wooden legs, clambered up into Inferna's lap, and made itself at home there, purring contentedly.

"As I said," she said, returning to their previous topic as she lightly sipped the gold liquid in her goblet, "the foundations of Seneca's Keep are why I and my brothers asked for the pleasure of your company. To better explain our predicament to you, I must go a rather long way back and explain some of our history to you, if only to explain some of our own actions."

"Fire away," the Ta-Matoran replied, taking a quick swallow of the liquid, which tasted something like honey. "The night is young."

"Not young enough, unfortunately," was his response, as Inferna glanced over at another timestone. "I'll make this fast."

**XxX**

We originally did not come from here (she said). My brothers and I first encountered each other in another realm, far from your home. In each other, we saw similar traits, sparks that lead to a love for stories in all of us, and in time, we became a group. We dubbed ourselves the Toa Seneca (in another language, it means the place of stones – we were the Toa of the Amaja Circle in more ways than one), and built ourselves a home similar to this one. We fed off each other's strengths, and discovered that our greatest powers lay within our minds. All of us were storytellers, in one way or another, and with the discovery of our new shared power, we could bring our stories to life.

It made us powerful, but it came at a price. Our might made us wealthy, but some of our neighbors grew jealous of what we had – the fame, the power, the wealth – and wanted it for themselves. Our danger grew, until we came to the sad realization that to save ourselves and what we had gained, we had to leave that land forever.

We slipped away one night, with nothing but what we needed with us on our backs, and we traveled far. As for our jealous rivals, all they gained from our departure was bitterness and dust: without our powers to sustain it, our fortress and everything we left inside it vanished like a mirage.

We settled here, repairing the destroyed foundations and building a replica of our original Keep from them. But it was after we completed the construction and furnishing of our new home – about three months after we discovered the foundations – that we stumbled upon the hidden entrance to a ruined temple, buried in the mountains we rest against.

Our curiosity is sometimes our greatest strength, but in this case, it was our weakness. We broke the seal that locked the doors into the inner rooms and moved through, disabling the traps laid inside to deter – or kill – whatever unsuspecting beings entered it. We persevered, and we finally made it to the Rune Gates, which lie at the opposite end of the temple. In our greatest folly, we undid the protective rune-seal that locked the gates … and we unleashed what we never expected.

To this day, we are not sure what we released from the inner sanctum beyond the gates; however, we know it was malevolent, powerful … and even after untold years of imprisonment, strong enough to nearly destroy us. Its evil seeped past us through the doors we left unguarded, unlocked, and up above-ground into the stones that make up Seneca's Keep.

We were able to force it back beyond the gates, and sealed it with our own powers, but the damage had been done. Its darkness, its evil, had infected our sanctuary, and it was able to reach out to affect our guests. Try as we might, we could not banish it from our walls to protect ourselves and our visitors.

It was the most senior of us that discovered how to dilute the darkness. By using our unique powers on the chambers we had passed through, we used what we had created to fight the darkness and absorb it into their bodies; as they are borne from ourselves, they cannot be truly affected by it, though they can interact with the real world. By filtration through the seven rooms we created, we could protect those we invited much better than we could otherwise … and by making our rooms as lethal as possible, we could make sure no inquisitive being would live to make the same mistake we did.

Our method worked for the next three months, but we are having difficulties now. The Toa Seneca are losing contact with our brainchildren in the temple, and we cannot cleanse them of the darkness they are absorbing. We fear that the evil is taking over, and that our own creations will rebel against us to release the monster beyond the Rune Gates.

We needed a hero to banish the shadows; someone who could succeed where we have failed. That is why we called for you.

**XxX**

Throughout the entire narration, Inferna's voice that not changed from its calm, matter-of-fact tone, not even when she had declared him to be the "chosen hero" the Toa Seneca had been seeking for. Luja, for his part, was rather skeptical. For one thing, he doubted his own chances against the darkness if someone – or multiple persons – as strong as Inferna could not destroy such an evil as the one they claimed to be facing. For another, if they really were as powerful as the Fire Toa claimed, why could they not create someone to do the job in their stead, or his?

And then there was his own, silent denial; the conviction that – despite what Nemesis had told him at the gates – he was not cut out to be some hero.

"Why me?"

"Why you? We know the ways of heroes. We know the characteristics of the ones that make things right. You carry a legacy that you have no knowledge of, and we knew it would require that legacy to defeat our enemy.

"There is another reason, though. The darkness was sealed by an ancient hero, also named Luja. Only those that bear his name can defeat his monster. And if it is not subdued or destroyed, even we Seneca might fall under its influence."

Luja thought this was very far-fetched. Surely there were more people that had the same name as him, and one of them had to be a Toa. If they wanted help, a Toa would be a better choice. Since he was reluctant to say this out loud, though, he simply began to get up and leave.

"I thought you would take it this way," Inferna said, her eyes unreadable. As Luja started to his feet, she continued on as if he were still seated. "If you won't do it for us, perhaps you will do it for the others."

Something about how the female Toa said _the__others_made the Ta-Matoran freeze. "The others?"

Seemingly ignoring him, the tattooed Toa looked past him and addressed someone behind his chair. "You can come out," she said softly, in a gentle tone that seemed out of character for her. "He's the one you've been waiting for."

Wheeling, Luja found himself mask-to-mask with – he stared in alarm, recoiling on reflex. "What are they?"

"Phantasms. They have been waiting for you to come." Inferna's cool, in-control voice was a direct contrast to Luja's panicky voice.

His heartlight flashing at a greater speed, the Matoran stared at the pale, transparent, almost ghostly figures that had appeared in the sitting room, staring at him with nearly-lifeless eyes. They seemed to be trying to reach out, trying to touch his shoulder and speak to him, but he could not understand their voices. They were made up of nearly every species: in one corner, a Skakdi was paying a minimal amount of attention to him; in another, two Toa of indistinguishable elements were watching him raptly. And the furthest from him …

His fear leapt to a new height as he looked upon three Matoran, huddled together near the door. Unlike the others, they retained some of their natural colors amongst the grey, as the faintest of undertones. As he watched, one of them – a Po-Matoran wearing a Noble-style Rau – looked up from the fold, his eyes locking with Luja's.

Even in this state, he could recognize this Phantasm. "Kauz," he whispered.

He whirled around to face Inferna again, whose face had not changed expression. "How?" was the only word he could muster, but she understood his implications.

"The evil that infests our walls target our guests – more specifically, the energy that gives them life. If their protections fail, they are reduced to this sorry state, the husks of what they once were: more dead than alive. Only by destroying the evil can they be restored to their true shapes."

Just like that, he knew he was caught, shackled by the conscience that cried out for him to help the trapped ones, including his friend. All the same … "You planned this, didn't you? You knew that if I saw them, I'd have to say yes."

His hostess inclined her head slightly. "We have seen many heroes – created, met, and broken them – and we know how to best push their buttons. If a plea does not move them, we show them the victims. If they are hardhearted enough to not rise to that bait, we make it personal. We strike at their hearts, and it takes a very strong-willed individual to not do what we wish them to.

"Your friends received an invitation three days after we sent yours. It bade them to meet us here the next weekend, and since they have been here before, they saw nothing suspicious. They came, they spent the night … and we dropped enough of their protections so they would become Phantasms."

Luja's mouth had become very dry; it took a few moments before he could articulate what he wanted to say. "You're evil."

"That's a strong word, wouldn't you say? I prefer _diabolical_, though there really isn't much of a difference between the two words. The point remains: we require your help, and we are willing to stoop that low to get you to cooperate with us."

Luja was forced to amend his perception of his hostess. He could tell she meant what she said – that she would place his friends at risk to gain his assistance. There had been no doubt about her forcefulness; he just hadn't perceived just how cogent she and her brothers were.

With a sigh to testify to his heavy reluctance, he agreed. "Very well. I will try to accomplish this – but for my friends' sake, not yours."

Inferna surely heard the suppressed anger in his voice, but she did not seem affected by it; she continued to speak in her even tones. "We wish only for your assistance, Luja – if we must become anti-heroes or minor villains to make you step up to your role of hero, then we will."

**XxX**

After that lofty proclamation, Inferna quickly led Luja out of the room, leaving their drinks at the mercy of the Muaka cub's inquisitive tongue. The Phantasms followed them out of the sitting room for a while, but they finally fell away from their tails to other rooms.

Inferna's feet moved with fast and long strides, one of hers matching three of his. The female Toa seemed grimly focused on the hallways that stretched down into the third floor of the east wing. Her calm façade had disappeared once they had left the room, just another mask that she wore alongside her metal one.

They finally paused before a room sealed with a metal door. When Inferna withdrew a key ring and unlocked the door, Luja found himself stepping into a brightly-lit armory, with Kanohi lining shelves near the ceiling, pieces of armor taking up the back, and weapons galore occupying racks at the fore.

Luja wanted to stop and admire the craftsmanship on some of the pieces he saw, but the Fire Toa had no time to spare. Muttering under her breath, mentally measuring the swords and armor against her champion, she delved deep into the stores, finally surfacing with pieces of plate metal that she used to replace his own. Luja submitted to her work, knowing that she knew how to best prepare him for the ordeal ahead.

"Do you have any knowledge with swordplay?"

"Um …"

"I'll take that as a no." A new pulse of ruby energy flared from her hands and into his body, and when she placed a longsword into his hands, Luja could tell that – as opposed to this morning, when he would've regarded it as just a piece of steel – he now felt it as a long, sharp extension of his arms.

By now Inferna had moved away from weapons for the moment and was rummaging through the Kanohi. "You'll definitely need some Kanohi powers down there," she murmured, talking more to herself than to her guest. There was some sort of manic energy in her tone, like she was considering multiple options and was rejecting most of them. "Hau, Akaku, Calix, Pakari, Kakama, Volitak … that should be enough to cover the bases." Grabbing Great versions of those masks, she pressed them onto his face in the place of his powerless Kanohi, and then sent another ruby energy burst into his skull. Luja didn't need an explanation for that one: she was wielding her power over her creations to make the masks work for him.

The Toa stepped back for a view of her handiwork, and then shook her head. "You'll need some sort of ranged weapon down there," was her next piece of criticism, leading him down a side-alley of the armor where seven metal cabinets were rested, each with a different emblem pressed into it. She flung open one, only to be greeted by what appeared to be cloaks. Scowling, she slammed it shut with a loud, metallic _bang_, then flung it open again. The cloaks were gone, but they were replaced by shields, which were not what Inferna had wanted. Five reopenings later got her what she was looking for, and she withdrew what appeared to be a small, compact crossbow that could be mounted on the wrist. (Some of the others had been what appeared to be jars of something red, severed heads, and what resembled a heavily bejeweled crown.)

"The most senior of us built this weapon," she explained, fitting the leather straps around his left hand. "The bolts regenerate quickly, and can change their energy composition at your will. It should be able to help you if you need breathing room."

Footsteps echoed on the floor, and Nemesis rounded the corner, apparently on the orders of her mistress. A large orange key was spinning on her left index finger, and a small knapsack was slung over her shoulders.

Whatever she had been about to say died upon examining Luja, who was admiring his new array, and then she glared at Inferna and hissed, "That's all you're giving him? He'll –"

"Mata Nui always sides with the heroes," was the sharp retort. "Luja is the hero of this story, and his support, as with ours, will be a greater protection than any other we could give him."

Still holding Nemesis in her blue-eyed gaze, Inferna continued. "Nemesis, you are to lead Luja to the first antechamber and break the seal. Give him a quick overview of what he should look for in the rooms, and then return as needed. Do I make myself clear?"

A rebellious-looking Nemesis nodded sullenly. Satisfied, Inferna swept out of the armory, the others behind her, and paused to give Luja one last word: "Good luck. We are counting on you."

Then she was gone.

**XxX**

**Disclaimer:**Inferna, Luja, Nemesis, and Tamu (the Muaka cub) belong to me. The crossbow is a modified weapon borrowed from Repicheep22's stories.


End file.
